Sunday, February 27, 2011

"How Did This Happen?"

My grampa is a poet.  At the moment I am his "editor in chief" as we attempt to compile a distributable book of his poems. As I was organizing categories and formatting pages I came across this poem that he wrote for our wedding.  Not exactly "how it happened" but very funny nonetheless.   Enjoy!

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?
She was dancing in the kitchen.
She said she didn’t know
that the blinds were always open
and she was putting on a show.
He said he was merely walking by;
innocent as a man can be.
“Could I be blamed for watching?
what was plainly there to see?"

Of the damsel in the window
said the man out in the street,
“It’s not my style to interrupt,
but here’s a girl I’ve got to meet!”
He peeled his eyes from off the window.
He tapped upon her door.
And said, “I like what I’m seeing here.
Can I come back for more?"

And so he did, and, within weeks
his knees were planted on the floor!
He popped the question. Tikla Squealed,
“This is so sudden!"
What have you been waiting for?”

This is not your usual story
you can get a moral from.
It’s just that Tikla was a show-off,’
and Austin was a peeping Tom!
© Robert Lynn Brown

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

It's that time again!

 A three day weekend!!!  Just a little taste of the Browns...




Reece, master of entertaining, made up a "video game" on the white board.  I'm telling you kids don't need toys. :)


Starr, isn't she the cutest!!!
Sisters ;) au naturel


Jay J. dutiful dishes doer and excellent cookie maker
A little one on one action in the backyard. 



According to Austin, Sterling beat him in a round of PIG fair and square.

Oh, and mustn't forget a little blueberry lush.  YUM!!!!

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

The pink, red, doily laden, highly controversial holiday...

...was a huge success!  :) 

Why the Controversy?

Number one: Commercialized love. 

Rebuttal:  Since when do holidays NOT get commercialized.  It's called: good ideas earn money so people jump on them.  Can you blame them?  If you don't think people should spend loads of money on flowers and chocolate then don't, make cookies and paper flowers yourself.  I don't think there are pompous rich guys who sit back and laugh at the stupidity of America as they roll in the proceeds from their paper doily business.  I'm pretty sure it's sweet little ladies who run flower shops who are earning their living. :) 

Number two: Single people feel sad.

Rebuttal: I don't have a good one for this. No doubt smooching couples, sickly sweet decorations, and loneliness are a lethal combination. However, I'm pretty sure there have only been 2% of my February 14th celebrations that have included being someones "valentine." On the other 98% I've dressed up in pink, drawn hearts next to my eyes, and passed out sweethearts to perfect strangers. So, I guess my point is, other people aren't in charge of making us happy. We find happiness and then we are better equipped to be happy with someone. If it takes a boy/girlfriend to make you happy then you never will be.


Number three:  Just one day to show love? Shouldn't I show my love all year long? 

Rebuttal: I think Mallory Watkins toasted it golden when she said: "It's just like Thanksgiving. I give thanks every day, but it's nice to have a holiday dedicated to it. I tell my husband everyday that I love him, but that doesn't make Valentine's any less meaningful to us."  I can't think of anyone who only shows love on Valentine's Day.  If they aren't showing it on the other days then what would make them pop out the prose and roses for the 14th?  If anything people break up before this day so that they don't have to show love they don't feel. 

So there is my rant against the Valentine's day rant. 

Thank you to a husband who refuses to wear green in honor of a catholic St. Patrick, but will wear a pink tie, dance with me to Ella Fitzgerald, and hold me gently on Valentine's Day. 

I love you Valentine!

Saturday, February 5, 2011

The Parable of the Choir

I was overwhelmed. Oh, so very overwhelmed by my imperfections and failures. In my sorrow I went to the temple; there in the house of the Lord I was taught the parable of the choir.

In choral singing a brand new piece is often approached with a tool: Solfa. (Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti) Each has a corresponding hand signal. To one unfamiliar with this sight singing method it might seem superfluous and tedious. I grant you, often times the first gallop through the piece is hardly musical. However, for a musician comfortable with solfa, this method is invaluable. By learning the piece with consistent vowel shapes for every note, and even hand signals that are a physical reminder that "ti" points to "do" and "fa" points to "mi," the lyrics are less likely to throw the singer into dischordant mayhem.

As I considered the wisdom of this method I remembered that the temple, and everything found inside it's sacred doors, is symbolic. Just as physical reminders in music aid the singer, the covenants made in the temple are reminders of the most excellent way to keep our life in tune with our Savior.
Life is an undeniably, challenging piece of music. It is difficult enough to learn my own part in the song of life, let alone blend my other relationships sweetly. Yet it is the relationship of the melody and harmony that brings richness, beauty, and even dissonance. (Dissonance is vital to music, without it a song lacks contrast, brilliance, and resolution.)

Most often a life lesson must be learned more than once. The measure in my life called "patience" has been rehearsed a hundred times and yet "la" is still out of tune. Even when I think I've mastered it, the Master conductor runs through it again to, "make sure it wasn't an accident."

Slowly, while sitting in the celestial room I cast off my burden. My life is still in the sight reading stages. With the temple as a tool and my God conducting, this song will be masterful. Even though right at this moment I seem out of tune, I get glimpses of the splendid, perfection the composer intends. When those glorious chords fill my life, even for just one count in time, the effort is worth it.
 
Line upon line, in music and in life.